


Pump up my heart

by ThwipBit (pemfrost)



Series: Tumblr Shorts [16]
Category: Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon 2012)
Genre: But mostly fluff, Fluff, M/M, some angst (because I am me)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 09:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13499456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pemfrost/pseuds/ThwipBit
Summary: Anon requested: Spideynova where Peter and the crew find out Sam is diabetic after they accidentally see his pump from under his clothing during school. They start questioning him about it but Sam feels terribly embarrassed. (It's for my dear friend who recently got a insulin pump and feels really self conscious about it so I would prefer a story of acceptance and some spideynova fluff.)AN: I know the title is lame and I'm open to suggestions T_T





	Pump up my heart

**Author's Note:**

> anon: This is so sweet of you, I hope your friend enjoys it!! This went longer than a drabble because I love the prompt so much <3 Please, let me know if I got anything wrong (I did some online research, but I don’t know anyone with a pump- all my diabetic friends/family use various types of injections)

 

He could hear them, their hushed whispers when his back was turned while he pretended to be listening to the teacher drone on. Years of being the new kid helped him develop a thick skin. If his mom’s job would send her to another city the following year, what was the point in causing a scene and confronting the whispers. And more importantly: what was the point in making friends?

“Sam.” Peter’s whisper came from directly behind him. When Sam gave no indication he heard him, Peter raised his voice. “Pst, Sam.- ow!”

Sam smirked, staring forward as he pictured M.J. elbowing Peter. Or better- kicking him under the desks.

“He’s been out for days, I just want to see how he is.”

“Maybe he doesn't want to talk about it.”

“But- we're friends. He-”

“Leave him alone, Peter.”

The bell rang and Sam bolted, clearing the door before their teacher finished his sentence. He’d avoided Peter’s texts the last few days and had plans to continue to do so now that he was back in school. After turning a corner, he paused and rested his hand on his left hip, patting the small device clipped to his jeans. It hadn't come loose, much to his relief. Although the doctor and his mother assured him it wouldn't jostle loose, he still checked it- sometimes even subconsciously.

Taking a week off had been his mother's idea, and Sam wasn't one to complain about excused days off of school. A week wasn't quite enough to adjust to the insulin pump, but he sure didn't miss the alternative. Okay, maybe he did miss the routine- and learning a whole new way to control his diabetes was more than a little daunting- but overall he knew it was for the best. No more forgetting, no more crashing… but the attached device also meant no more hiding.

Sam ducked into an empty classroom. His next class was next to this one and he knew if he timed it right he could be in his seat right as the bell rung. Fortunately, Peter wouldn't be in this class- but M.J. would.

He bit his cheek. High School was ripe with gossip, it was just how it was. After transferring to many schools across the country, Sam noticed universal constants. Like, if there was no gossip, gossip would be invented. And, there would always be a classmate who hated him- and they would always be cute. Always.

So far, Midtown High in New York City conformed to both of those universal truths in spades.

A student didn't just miss class for a week without the rumor mill starting, especially if that same student ignored the calls and texts from his friends. Who knew what rumors were circulating about him.

At least Peter eventually got over his initial hate and they became friends. It didn't help with the whole 'Peter is incredibly cute’  _thing_ , but so far he’d managed to keep it to himself.

Peter's voice came from outside the classroom. “What do I do, M.J.? He won't even talk to me- let alone tell me what happened.”

“Maybe,” came M.J.’s calm response, “stop pushing him. If we wants to talk to us he will.”

“I'm worried about him. And I thought we were friends, or does he not think so? Maybe he still hates me.”

“Or maybe you're just annoying. Come on, we'll be late.”

Sam counted to five then ran to his next class. M.J. was just taking her seat when he entered the room. She gave him a coy smile, and after a quick glance around the room he saw why: the only open seat was the desk connected to hers.

Sam dropped his shoulders in defeat. She was bound to corner him one way or another, the silver lining was Peter wasn't there. He tossed his bag on the floor and stretched his hands over his head in an attempt to ease his tense muscles.

“Mr. Alexander.” His English teacher scowled at him from the front of the class. “Principal’s office. Now.”

Sam opened his mouth to protest, but decided against it. He grabbed his backpack and trudged to the front. He waited for the teacher to finish her note, and accepted the top copy of the write-up. He was all too familiar with the process.

As he made his way down the hall, he glanced at the note he would be giving to the principal's secretary. “Cell phone in class?” His cell was in his bag, how could she have seen - “Oh.”

Sam gently patted his insulin pump. It would be easy enough to clear up, but it was just something else to add to the rumor-mill fire.

 

* * *

 

 

After some meetings and apologies, Sam was out of the office thirty minutes into his next class. It was the last class of the day, he just had to get through it and he could escape back home.

He continued staring forward, pretending not to hear Peter's hushed call from the desk next to his. There was a small walkway between their desk groups, and Ava- whose desk was connected to his on the right- sighed in annoyance when Peter leaned further into the aisle in an attempt to get Sam's attention.

“Pssst. Sam”

He couldn't avoid him forever. While he contemplated escape routes and ways to talk to Peter, a ball of paper landed on his desk. There was no point in looking around for the culprit, so he unraveled the note and read over it.

'are u ok?’

Sam sighed and risked a glance over at Peter. Those eyes would be the death of him. When Peter stuck out his bottom lip, Sam's resolve caved. He quickly wrote back, 'im fine. dont worry.’

'do you hate me?’

'no.’

‘do you not want to be friends anymore?’

Sam paused. He did want to be friends, but… he didn't want to see the pity on Peter's face. Or answer the million questions- or even show them his pump. It was private. How could they be friends and keep this a secret? There was only two months left, could he avoid Peter that long? He probably could, but his heart ached at the thought.

The bell rang before he could decide on an answer. He pushed back his chair, turning to Peter without a plan of what he was going to say- only to be greeted by Peter's back as he left the classroom.

He chased after him without hesitation, though he still didn't know what he was going to say. He caught up to Peter at his locker and winced at the force Peter used to shut it. “Hey.”

Peter didn't turn towards him. “It's fine, I get it. I'm annoying. And a nerd. And you're too cool for me.”

Sam snorted. “True.” Then, softer, “I’m sorry.”

“It's fine. You're not the first, don't apologize.” Peter hoisted his backpack onto one shoulder.

“I have diabetes.” He didn't tell his mouth to say that.

“What?” Peter turned to him finally.

“It's why I've been…” He gestured at nothing. “Missing classes and disappearing. It wasn't well managed and I had to go to the nurse a lot for insulin since apparently I can't be trusted with my own medicine in school. And I missed doses because it was a pain to go out of my way but this is much better.”

Peter blinked. “Are you okay- is that why you were out? I'm a terrible fri-”

“Peter. It's fine. I'm fine. Everything is fine.” He lifted his shirt to show Peter the small black box. “I got an insulin pump to help keep it under control, and my mom let me take some time to adjust.”

“Oh, cool. Like a robotic pancreas! So like- it's attached to you then?”

Sam put his shirt back down, suddenly self conscious. “Yea.”

“Okay then. So, wanna come over and play Mario Kart after school?”

Sam bit his lip. “Peter, there's something else I should tell you. While I'm being all open and shit.”

Peter stepped closer, “Go ahead.”

“Peter, I've been thinking a lot- and I don't know if we can be friends because-”

Luke's voice boomed over the bustle of the hallway “Sam!”

It was all the warning he had before being enveloped in a strong embrace. “M.J. told us and maaan- you don't have to hide that from us bro. We're here for you.”

“Sorry Sam. They have no tact.” M.J. joined the hug, followed by Ava and Harry. “I saw your insulin pump - how that teacher could mistake if for a cellphone is beyond me.”

“It's cleared up now,” Sam said as the group pulled back. “Thanks, you guys. I guess I shouldn't have been afraid to tell you.”

“We understand.” M.J. kissed his cheek. “We won't treat you any different, Sam. And if anyone bothers you they'll have us to answer to.”

“Thanks.” Sam looked for Peter. Why would he have left? “Did you see which way Peter went?”

“Probably home,” Ava shrugged. “See you and chess club tomorrow.”

After their farewells, Sam made his way to Peter's house. His resolve had since faded; any and all feelings he may or may not have for the adorable brunette would be kept a secret. Hopefully Peter had forgotten he mentioned telling him something else.

Aunt May was all smiles when she opened the door. “Hi Sam. Pete’s up in his room. Are you staying for dinner?”

“I'm not sure. Maybe.” He jogged up the stairs and let himself in to Peter's room. Peter was face down on his bed, face buried in a pillow.

“I'm not hungry, Aunt May.” His voice was muffled by the pillow.

Sam gently closed the door. “Hey, Pete. Still up for Mario Kart?”

Peter inhaled sharply. “Stop doing this.”

“What?” Sam grabbed the game from the pile on Peter's table.

“You said you didn't want to be friends. After making me think you did- and I've had some cruel people in my life but…”

“What are you-” Sam remembered what he’d said before the gang had basically tackled him. “Oh. I didn't finish what I was going to say.”

“Yea?” Peter sat up, his eyes red. “So tell me. I'm curious what it is this time.”

“I'm not Flash, Peter. I don't want to hurt you.” The opposite, really.

“Then tell me.”

Sam swallowed. “I don't think we can be friends because- because- you may not want to be friends with me.”

Peter threw his pillow at Sam. “That's the lamest 'it’s not you it's me’ bs I've heard.”

“I like you. Like you like you.” Sam shut his eyes so he wouldn't have to see Peter's reaction. “I've told only one other person before and she stopped talking to me completely. I moved the following summer, so it didn't matter, but… if you don't feel the same it's fine, I can keep this to myself.”

“You…” Peter sniffled.

Sam opened his eyes to find Peter staring at him. “I'm sorry. I'll go.”

“Don't.” Peter stood and crossed to stand in front of Sam. “I was settling for friends. I- I'm happy with friends. But, I wouldn't say no to more.”

“Oh.” Sam fidgeted. “What now?”

“I kick your butt at Mario Kart then... maybe hold your hand while we watch a movie?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Sam relaxed, being glad to have everything finally in the open.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
